


Good Boy

by morbid_beauty



Series: Kinda but Not Really Near Canon BDSM AU [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Collars, F/M, Paddling, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morbid_beauty/pseuds/morbid_beauty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a kinda but not really near canon world where Frank has recently been collared by Jamia, Frank makes a mistake that earns him punishment. (Not that he's really complaining.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZeroFourThreeFour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroFourThreeFour/gifts).



Trips back home were always exciting. Frank loved the band and he loved touring but there was nothing like smelling that polluted New Jersey air. And Gerard took good care of Frank when it was desperately needed and Jamia approved but there was nothing like being with the woman that had collared him.

"I just can't get over it," Ray said, looking at Frank and Jamia.

They were in one of the back rooms of the venue. You could call it a dressing room but with chipping paint, one old couch, and half a dozen foldable chairs, it would be giving too much credit. Frank was lying on the couch with his head in Jamia's lap not because it was necessary but because he was exhausted after the long day and had called dibs.

"Get over what?" Bob said. He was lighting a cigarette. The venue didn't say they could smoke but it didn't say they couldn't smoke. "Frank is the subbiest sub I've ever seen."

Frank hummed happily and grinned at Jamia. She smiled a little, combing her fingers softly through his short hair. She seemed distracted. He wondered what was wrong.

"No, the Jamia domming Frank part," Ray said. "Never thought Frank would get collared in my lifetime. Even if it's just a training collar."

Frank narrowed his eyes. The training collar was as recent as right before this tour started and he understood that it was still new to them but Ray needed to check himself. Bob chuckled then passed the cigarette to Gerard, who passed it to Mikey.

"It honestly took them long enough," Gerard said, an edge of anger in his voice. Frank looked over at Mikey. He shared a look with Frank as he smoked. Mikey knew as well as Frank did that Gerard's on-the-road-dom status was a bit straining for everyone involved.

"She's just not the typical domme, you know?" Ray said, continuing on talking like Jamia wasn't there. It would piss her off. Frank would be delighted to see her rip him a new one. "She's way different than the few other female dommes I've met."

"First of all, sweetheart, there are way more female dommes than you think," she said. "Society just likes to mold us all into subs, the same way they probably tried to mold you into a dom."

"You are so hot," Frank said to Jamia when Ray noticeably tensed. She petted him a little more and he sighed.

"Secondly, you have no business judging. Frankie's mine. Right, baby?"

"Yes, ma'am," Frank murmured. He always slipped into using titles when she got all sexy and possessive.

"I never said it was a bad thing," Ray said. "Frank's never been happier. I'm glad you guys finally made it official."

Jamia beamed. Frank chuckled. "You're definitely not crossing her again, are you, Toro?" he said.

Frank ignored Gerard frowning and the way Mikey and Bob grinned at each other. Ray just smirked, a blush on his cheeks.

Suddenly the door flew open. The stage manager made a motion toward the stage and said, "You've got five." They all started getting up, including Frank, but Jamia hooked a finger into the metal D-ring at the front of the leather collar and tugged. She held him against the couch as she stood up then let him drop. He saw the stern look in her eye and grew nervous.

"He'll catch up," she said.

Frank watched as Gerard stormed out quickly. Ray followed suit, shortly followed by Bob and Mikey. Bob had a hand on Mikey's hip, fingers squeezing.

"You know, Mikey likes to pretend he doesn't adore Bob but those two have had more sessions than I can even tell you about," Frank said as the door slammed shut. "I get that Mikey isn't conventional, I didn't think I was either until you, but it'd probably do him good to—”

"Shut up," Jamia said and Frank was honestly surprised she'd let him talk as long as he did. She took a few steps away from the couch and pointed to the floor. "On your knees. Hands behind your back."

Frank couldn't recall what he had done wrong but she only ever asked him to get on his knees in front of her like that when she was planning to dole out a punishment. He moved to position quickly and looked up at her.

"You didn't call me when you got to the venue," Jamia said. Fuck. "I drove down here from the motel with no idea of what was going on."

It had been a long and exhausting day for the boys of My Chemical Romance because van trouble was their middle name. They’d informed Jamia about it those fifteen minutes before they went on stage, the only fifteen minutes they had to spare after getting to the venue so late, but it hadn't occurred to Frank at all that he hadn’t called her. It had barely been a month since she collared him and he already screwed up. Their relationship was tense enough with the weird love triangle going on.

"We talked about it, though, ma’am," Frank said in his defense. Jamia's eyes narrowed. "The van broke down, our phones died...we barely had cash to pay for repairs and we almost didn't even make it to the show."

Jamia folded her arms. "And now you're making excuses," she said.

"No, ma’am! I'm just telling you the truth, I'm telling you what happened."

Jamia's fingers rested on the top of his head. She scratched his scalp a little, a reassuring action she did no matter the mood of their session, then clamped her fingers on the little hair Frank had. He hissed and gritted his teeth.

"You weren't making excuses?" Jamia said. Frank breathed hard through his nose.

"No," he said.

"So I'm a liar?"

Frank hadn't meant that at all. But he had implied it. He closed his eyes shamefully and waited. He would have to be on stage soon. This wouldn't end until long after the show. He wasn't sure how he'd handle that.

"I'm really disappointed in you," Jamia said firmly, letting go of Frank.

There it was. Disappointment. Frank hung his head. What little defiance he had washed away with regret. Jamia knew best. "I'm sorry, ma’am," he said. He felt his cheeks warm.

"You have to get on stage," Jamia said. "We'll discuss this further later."

Frank stood up and headed for the door. He glanced at her; her arms were still crossed but her expression had softened. Later had promise. Later meant they would have a session tonight, his first night back, and Frank was beyond excited. He'd been missing her so much on the road. In a few hours’ time he would get rightly punished and hopefully make Jamia happy in the process, a thought that had him hard already. He knew it would fuel his energy on stage the second his guitar was handed to him.

***

After the show, Jamia dropped Frank off at the motel and sat him on the bed before leaving with no hint of where she was going. She sent Frank clear instructions in a text: _Shower. Lie down on your back on the bed, hands on your stomach. Don't move until I say_. Everyone could tell how wired up Frank was and didn't question when he disappeared without following to party. Frank did as he was told and waited patiently. He assumed Jamia had gone to buy an impromptu aftercare kit. He assumed it would be one of those nights. Well, he hoped so anyway.

Frank felt so pleased feeling the collar around his neck. It was a training collar, yes; less commitment than a formal collar. The reason for that was that Frank was going to be away with the band. They'd skidded right passed the collar of protection, most couples did nowadays, and the training collar didn't even need to be worn in public. But they were both so ready. The training collar was more for formalities than because they really needed it. They'd gone through that stage in their relationship already through the years of dating. But it was nice to think it was almost official. Frank was hers and Jamia would take care of him. But now, Frank was getting punished.

Surely enough, when Jamia returned she had a plastic bag with her. The light was on and she kept it that way; Frank was relieved to see the pleased expression on her face at seeing him. She had a big purse with her in the corner of the room and though Frank knew better than to snoop he was buzzing with excitement to find out what was inside. Jamia walked over, dropped the plastic bag, and reached into her purse for a few things.

A harness attached to Frank's favorite blue dildo with the bumps on it, a bottle of lube, and the paddle. Frank liked the paddle. He'd managed not to be entirely hard the entire time since they spoke before the show but there was no way he could survive Jamia walking over to the bed with those things. She laid them out on the bed and started unbuttoning her blouse.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Jamia said. Frank sighed shakily. She threw her blouse carelessly to the side and slipped out of her jeans. “Then you’ll get your punishment. And you don’t get to come unless I say. Got it?”

Frank nodded. Her words went straight to his dick, even though (or, probably, because) it meant she controlled whether or not he would come tonight. It was one of his favorite things, taking a backseat as she lost control. Besides, it had been a while since he’d been fucked. It wasn't Gerard's job to fuck Frank, just to keep him in check. That sometimes meant blowjobs but they didn't do anything without Jamia's say-so. Fucking was entirely reserved to Jamia and Frank was vibrating for a fuck.

"Safe word," Jamia said.

She was wearing a red lace bra that left very little to the imagination and no underwear at all. Frank whimpered. He had missed her so much. She was so fucking gorgeous and he was so gone for her.

"Billboard, ma’am," Frank said.

They were messing around in her car the first time they played. It was entirely unintentional. Jamia knew Frank was a sub and Frank knew Jamia was a domme but they'd only been fooling around, not looking for a real relationship. Things got heady, Frank was slipping, and it took quick judgment for Jamia to ask for a safe word. He remembered where they were, stopped on the side of a road somewhere, and said "Billboard" without thinking. It had stuck. Frank had not needed it yet.

Now Frank was staring at his beautiful girlfriend, transfixed by her mostly naked body and the dark look in her eyes. He spread his legs for her and she smirked as she crawled onto the bed between them. She lay on him and they kissed roughly. Frank experimentally moved his hands to her breasts and squeezed, receiving a pleased moan in response. Frank always felt proud when he got that reaction out of her. Then he let his hands wander to her hips and pull her down, his dick sliding between her legs. They both moaned but very suddenly her fingers were in his hair, tugging him away.

“Uh-uh,” Jamia said.

Frank gritted his teeth. Jamia took Frank’s hand from her hip and moved it between her legs, her own hands moving to either side of his head to keep herself up. Frank immediately moved two fingers inside her. She was wet already, no doubt as excited for this as he was. He watched the way her expression changed, eyes squeezed shut and mouth falling open. Her hips moved against his prodding fingers. She moaned when he moved his slick fingers to rub her clit and he smiled. She finally guided his hand away from her again, bringing his fingers to his mouth. He licked his fingers clean, moaning with the taste, as she crawled back to the foot of the bed. She knelt there and picked up the strap-on.

“Get on your knees,” Jamia said. Frank got up on his knees as Jamia adjusted the harness around her hips and thighs. “Face the wall…” Frank quickly turned away. He heard the cap of the lube open. As if it were an afterthought, Jamia added, “Chest down, hands behind your back.”

Frank moved into the awkward position gleefully. It’d been so long since he’d heard her soft, commanding voice telling him what to do without the static of a phone line in the way. Jamia spread Frank’s cheeks and stroked Frank’s balls with her thumb, making his body tense against the already awkward position. She pressed a slick finger into him and Frank sighed happily. It’d been so long since someone’s other than his own finger went inside him. Frank closed his eyes and relished in the familiar strokes of her nimble fingers.

When Jamia added a finger, Frank’s back curled. His muscles ached from the effort caused by the position he was in. She spread her fingers and hooked, fucking him shallowly, and his breaths came out in shaky gasps. A third finger had him whining as his muscles strained and her slick fingers stroked his walls, pressing teasingly against his prostate.

Frank thought he’d start begging soon, the delicious ache making him dizzy, he fucking needed more, but Jamia got rid of her fingers and said, “On your elbows.”

Frank got up on his elbows, his body feeling widespread relief. He glanced back and saw Jamia slicking up the dildo, jerking it and surely taking pleasure from the probe on the inside of the strap-on. Frank loved seeing her indulge in pleasure. She closed the lube cap, threw the bottle aside, and gave Frank a look. He hung his head and stared at his folded hands. He didn’t have to wait long for Jamia to guide the dildo to his entrance and press in. Jamia placed her hands on Frank’s hips with fingers tight enough to bruise and pressed until Frank felt the heat of her hips on his ass and the length of her cock inside him.

Frank moaned as Jamia started moving, slow at first, letting Frank get used to it or possibly teasing them both. The dildo curved in a way that pressed right against Frank’s prostate and Frank whined, pushing his hips back. Jamia took the hint, started thrusting faster, and the quick drag and pull drove Frank crazy with pleasure. He gasped as Jamia curled her finger nails into his skin, listened to Jamia’s little moans. She started fucking him in earnest and that was the hottest she ever was, when she lost control while in control, and Frank dared a glance back. She was covered in sweat, looking down at the way her cock moved inside him and moaning, using him to get herself off, and Frank groaned at the sight and the pleasure he took from being used by her.

Her thrusts started to stutter in rhythm and he knew she was close. He hung his head, his body shaking. One of her hands moved from his hip and he imagined her touching herself, squeezing her breasts and twisting her own nipples, and the look on her face as she moaned loudly and swore. Finally she was shaking, panting, groaning low and helpless, and the sound went straight to Frank’s dick. She fucked him shallowly for another minute before speeding up again, no doubt going for a second orgasm, and Frank was growing dizzy with arousal and need and lack of attention to his dick. She slammed into him, hard, the second time, and Frank almost fell over from the force of it. Her claws on his hips kept him up; she panted, moaning softly as she eased out of him.

Frank knew better than to move at all. He heard the latches of the harness move and her light footsteps move around the bed. She leaned over the bed with the intent to kiss him and their lips touched for half a second. Frank looked at her, hopeful and horny and fucking wild with desire, and her expression changed. There was the domme Frank fell in love with years ago, before he even wanted to admit it, her gaze dark and commanding. Frank hung his head again as she turned away, looked at his own half-hard cock.

“On your hands now,” Jamia said breathlessly. “Stay still.”

Frank got up on his hands as Jamia disappeared into the bathroom. It occurred to him that this night was not yet over and he was ecstatic. Jamia came back and stood at the side of the bed. Frank turned his head just enough to see her pick up the paddle. He still had his punishment and then Jamia would really be happy with him again.

"You failed to contact me this afternoon, you made excuses, and then you called me a liar," Jamia said, her voice holding so much authority you wouldn’t think she’d just come twice. A solid pressure traced Frank's spine as she dragged the corner of the paddle along it. Frank curved his back. "How does twenty hits for each offense sound to you?"

Frank curled his fists into the sheets. Now was the moment to say whether or not he thought he could take that much. "Sounds about right, ma'am," Frank said, almost squeaked. Of course he could take it.

"You've been waiting for this haven't you?" she asked.

Frank squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

"I'm gonna need you to count them out loud. How many are there?"

"Sixty, ma’am."

"Good boy."

Already a sentiment of approval and nothing had happened yet. Frank was spoiled. He didn't have much time to relish in the fact before the paddle whipped through the air, hitting the back of his thighs with a loud _thwack_.

"One, ma’am," Frank said, or more blew out of his mouth in a breath of shock. He hadn't even registered the start of pain before she hit him again. "Two, ma’am."

The first twenty were routine. Jamia delivered them with swift precision, hitting Frank’s ass and the backs of his thighs quickly after each he counted aloud. The sting was welcome and necessary. Frank moaned softly.

The next twenty started to make him dizzy. He wondered how it looked for her, how his burning skin would look to him, and his moans got louder. His arms shook. The constant barrage was as arousing as it was confounding. The warm stings turned sharp and hot and Frank, panting and grinning, watched his hands below him get blurry.

“Frankie?” Jamia said. Frank heard her through white noise and realized he had stopped counting.

“Forty…forty-one, ma’am,” he said. He tensed for the next hit. “Fucking…forty-two…ma’am.”

Jamia wasn’t letting up at all and Frank didn’t want her to. He was starting to slip, every one of his senses zeroing in on the sounds of Jamia’s breaths and the heat and swell of each hit.

He was laughing by the time he got to the fifties, his eyes swelling with tears. He was high on it, fucking floating. Jamia didn’t reprimand him; always let him react the way he did and deal with the aftermath as needed. She gave him exactly what he needed, always so good to him.

“Frankie, you’re almost done,” Jamia said. She sounded so far away. “You’re doing so well. Just a few more.”

What were they up to? Frank took a few deep breaths. “Fifty…seven?” he said. His voice was hoarse. Jamia never faltered in rhythm; the moment he spoke he got another hit. Frank whined, long and low. “F-fifty-eight! Fuck… Fifty-ninnne… Hah. Sixty! Six…ty. Sixty. Sss…”

Frank arms gave out and he fell on his side. He panted, murmuring under his breath. He was flying. The bed dipped and he immediately felt Jamia’s hands on him. Over his hot thighs, the bruises on his hips, in his hair. Frank whined softly and managed to open his eyes. She was unfocused but he could recognize her pleased smile. She leaned down to kiss below his ear.

“You did really well and you’ve made me really happy,” Jamia said, her voice soft against his ear. Frank was so happy to hear that he just laughed in response. “I’ll let you come if you want to.”

“Please, ma’am,” Frank murmured.

Jamia’s palm moved over the head of his cock and he wined, curving his back. She used his pre-come as lube and stroked him to a quick orgasm. He was already so far gone it didn’t take much. Seconds of her touch and he was groaning and shaking, coming over her hand and the sheets. She kissed him and he fell limp, feeling sated.

The next few minutes passed by quickly. Frank laid there still while Jamia shuffled around. He watched with half-lidded eyes as she walked around in just her underwear, humming so that Frank could hear her. She cleaned the wet spot next to him, gave him to drink from a bottle of water, and asked him to lay on his stomach. Frank moaned, groaning as his aching skin stretched. He felt something cool on his hips, ass, and thighs; Jamia’s hands moved soothingly, spreading lotion over his damaged skin, and Frank hummed appreciatively. Then there was a blanket on him.

Jamia crawled under the blanket. Frank blinked at her. He was coming back to himself, slowly, but he was still exhausted. She grinned and lay close to him. He shimmied over despite how much pain he was in and laid half on top of her. He listened to the steady rhythm of her heart next to his ear, closed his eyes, and smiled.

“And what will you do from now on?” Jamia asked. She slipped a finger under his collar and stroked his pulse.

“Always…call when you ask….” said Frank. “No makin’ ex…e-excuses or callin’ you a l-…a liar.”

“Good. I love you.”

“Love ya too.”

Frank focused on her fingers on his neck. Ray had been right. This is the happiest he’s ever been.


End file.
